The Memory of Yesterday
by crazy-about-books
Summary: "Hidden from the world is a small chest...Only one man knows of its existence...Opening it...His heart breaks as he looks at the photo of that long ago day...He shuts the chest, never to look upon it again."
1. The Memory of Yesterday

_**A/U ****Hello amazing people! Here is a little story I wrote. I honestly do not know how good it is however, so I would GREATLY appreciate feedback. I have a small follow up on this so please tell me if you think I should upload it as well. A warning, it is rather dreadful compared to this, so I do not know...  
**__**Any ways, please enjoy this.  
**_

_**Disclaimer: I sadly do not own Harry Potter, or Severus, but I do own a box! Not this one though... Enough regrets!  
On With The Show!..  
**_

_Hidden  
Dark  
Years  
A flash of red, two smiles  
Youth  
Joy  
Lost  
Smiling Green, distant laughter  
Gone  
Pain  
Dead  
Dead_

_Hidden _from the world is a small chest. It is almost lost to memory. Only one man knows of its existence but he shoves the memory away, He is afraid of being reminded of the pain he feels whenever his eyes fall on the box. And so it was hidden; out of sight out of mind. He ignores it and has almost forgotten its existence.

_Dark _wraps a blanket on all of the contents of this treasure. The gentle caress of light has not been in the presence of the abandoned memories for time forgotten. The green scarf with Gryffindor red was folded neatly. It was slightly threadbare, proof that it had indeed been worn. There was also an old snow globe depicting a clearing surrounded by trees and a river running through the meadow. Underneath that was a leather bound photo album. Other priceless artifacts included; stacks of letters, a glass owl, various birthday cards, and a photograph.

_Years_ have gone by since any of those have felt the warmth of sunlight or of a loving hand. Slowly ticking by, time passes seemingly much too slow. Then, looking back, the speed with which the years have passed comes as a surprise. A day has become nothing but a moment; a year, a simple minute in time. Each second of the clock dulls memory and coats all things with age. Yet, after time, and through the total darkness, the details of a special photo can still be made out.

_A flash of red_ is seen as the girls hair is pulled by a particularly strong gust of wind. It had been fall when this photo was taken and the leaves had danced in the wind as if to say that they were going to play one last time before winter truly fell. It had seemed as if the girl's vibrant locks wanted to play as well. They had whipped around violently, and had often smacked her companion in the face. For some forgotten reason, the girl hadn't thought to pull her hair back that morning. _Two smiles_ shown as they waited for the Care of Magical Creatures professor to arrive. The two enjoyed each other's company as, in a rare moment of carefree spirit, the boy lowered his mask. Neither had expected this moment to be captured, but, expected or not, a 'click' ensnared that day into its web.

_Youth _can be seen as either a blessing or a curse. The troubles of the world do not fall on the shoulders of the young quite so heavily. But then, they are so much more impressionable. Although the young refuse to acknowledge it, they know that those older are wiser. They expect their elders to guide and guard them. The youth expect them, in some cases, to understand. The boy in the photo, being young and impressionable, trusted the wrong people and fell into their trap.

_Joy_ is not the same is happiness. When you are happy it is in that moment, it is for now, but joy is so much more. Joy is everlasting and stays with you. When the two in the photo were together, they felt joy. Although the two fell apart, memories still brought them joy. If that joy was accompanied by a pain too terrible for him to bear, can the boy, now a man, be blamed for shoving it away? Some will say yes, others will say no, but it is not for us to judge.

_Lost _are the carefree hearts that existed all those years ago. One no longer beats to the rhythm of life, and the other is bogged down by turmoils and guilt. Guilt is a dreadful thing that wears down the strongest of men. None can survive whole under that terrible power. The only thing that keeps this man from collapsing is a promise made to the two who showed they care even when he did what was wrong. Now, both of those are lost and now nothing can soothe his heavy heart that had once been light.

_Smiling Green _eyes flash as the girl turns toward the bearer of the camera. The man, if he tries hard enough –not that he does –can remember the chase that ensued and how, panting the girl finally ceases. She declares that if the photo is ever to leave that camera two copies must be given, one to each of the subjects. Those are the only two ever made. Only one is left, the other destroyed by unforeseen events. _Distant laughter _echoes in the photo and can be seen clearly in the eyes and broad grins of the two. Laughter is so rare these days.

_Gone_ is the friendship that bound those two so closely. They were disbanded by two warring worlds. Friends each fight each other and those closest whisper words in their ears. These words plant seeds of doubt, no matter how hard they fight against it. Is it honestly such a surprise that one word slipped out? That one thing proved all the evidence of guilt true? Is it such a surprise that they, mere fifteen year olds cracked under the pressure. Somehow, it doesn't seem too hard to believe.

_Pain_ is a product of every war. No matter which side someone claims, sacrifices are made. Sometimes the sacrifices are miniscule, and then there are sacrifices which are tremendous. There are people who sacrifice their very lives to protect another. A woman dies to save her son, a leader dies to protect a boy and to win the war. This man puts his life on the line, works with those he despises, and gives up any friend he may have. Ultimately he gives his life.

_Dead _are many of those he strived to protect. Working under the cruel scrutiny of a master he pretends to serve, he is forced to perform heinous acts against innocents. Yet, he works continually. Suffering sleepless nights on end, he works to finish the task he is set. He is obliged to lie; to his enemy, to his friends, and to himself. The air is tense; it is as if the very castle in which he lives knows that everything must soon come to a head. For the first time in over twenty years, he takes out his treasure. Opening it, he handles the forgotten prizes and remembers. His heart breaks as he looks at the photo of that long ago day and tears fall down his crooked nose. Carefully, he places the letter written in the girls hand and the torn picture he took, all those months ago, and places them in the box. He shuts the chest, never to look upon it again.

_Dead, _he lies in the shrieking Shack with a look of peace so foreign that many people would not have thought it possible, even in death. When he is found, bloody and paler that what anyone could have imagined, those who were once his friends feel guilt for turning aside and hating him. Then, there are those who always despised him who feel shock at his true nature. People who considered him a friend and ally are disgusted at his true loyalties. So well placed was his mask, so complete were his lies that no one ever knew the true Severus Snape. The closest to ever figuring him out was a small girl with flying red hair, smiling green eyes and a beaming smile, and who's distant laughter echoes in the depths of time; Lily Evans


	2. Another Thing to Sort Through

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait, my summer was beyond crazy. I also feel that I much apologize for any OOC-ness that there is. It bugs me to no end but I can't quite place my finger on what is wrong. Last, but not least, I am sorry for any mistakes that have escaped my gaze. Without further ado, onwards and upwards!  
**

**Disclaimer: I must deny any accusations of my participation in the creation of Harry Potter. All such rumors are undeniably false.**

Another Thing to Sort Through

Harry Potter was making his way from the Auror office. It had been a long day full of paper work, and he was eagerly looking forward to a quick meal and then crashing on his couch. It had been nearly a year since the fall of Voldemort and life was still hectic, less life threatening, but still hectic. Yes, there had been a few attempts on his life, but those cases had died down. Regretfully, there were still hoards of people seeking even the slightest bit of attention or hint of a relationship- real or otherwise.

Purposefully, he made his way towards the lift. As he headed towards the Atrium, he felt a sudden longing for the Floo. True, Floo-ing was uncomfortable, but Apparition required more energy; energy that he really didn't wish to give. It wasn't that he was afraid of depleting his magical stores, it was more the fact that he wished he could fall asleep where he was. No matter how tired he was, however, didn't stop the truth from being that his Floo wasn't connected to the ministry. The knowledge that the most intricate wards and most complicated passwords could be broken had instilled a healthy dose of paranoia in him. It also helped to know how thoroughly the ministry had been corrupted only a year ago. All in all, he didn't have much confidence in the ministry as a whole.

With a sigh, he stepped into an empty lift. As the grill slid closed he massaged his tired eyes. To be perfectly honest, the never ending normalcy of everything was getting to him. It was like a chapter of his life had closed and there were still so many things unresolved. Despite the unanswered questions, nearly everyone seemed insistent on pushing forward. A feminine voice signaled another floor and the lift stopped. Harry opened his eyes and came face to face with Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy?" Harry couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice.

He received a cold look and a curt nod of the head in return. "Potter."

After his abrupt greeting, Malfoy moved to the opposite end of the small enclosed space. Behind him followed two people that he recognized as fellow Aurors. Driven by honest curiosity, he addressed the blond man.

"What are you doing here, then?" Another cold look, then-

"Trying to get rid of these goons." He indicated the two Aurors on either standing on side of him.

Harry was inexplicitly reminded of Crabbe and Goyle. Except, while those two had been there to protect Malfoy, these men were there to watch him.

Silence fell and Harry recalled a time where, if put into this same situation, they would have been at each other's throats. Now, there was an awkward silence. Harry's mouth twitched as he thought that with Ron here silence would have been impossible. Finally, the grill opened to the Atrium and he left. He was just to the Apparition point when he heard his name being called. Turning, he saw Malfoy making his way towards him.

"Potter."

"Yes, Malfoy?"

"Your mother-" Malfoy stopped short and Harry's eyes narrowed. He wasn't about to listen to Malfoy insult his mother. Then, to Harry's surprise, Malfoy went in a completely different direction.

"Professor Snape was my god father, did you know?" Harry shook his head. "Well, he was. We weren't particularly close, but we had a relationship. Severus was always kind, when I really needed it, and he tried to protect me. I wasn't too responsive to his aid and he couldn't very well be more obvious in the position he was in now could he? He left me everything in his will, I suppose I was the only one there was really."

To say Harry was confused and more than a bit skeptical was a given. He could not understand why his school enemy would suddenly decide to bare his soul to him, the one who had put the other man's father in jail – arguably more than once. Not to mention the several times that Harry had insulted him and his family.

"I'm sure he was grateful he had you." Harry said, mostly just so that he could say something. Personally, he highly doubted that his Professor had felt any fondness for the Malfoy's.

"Yes, well… something he left me – I think it'll interest you." That's when things started to click. Talking about Snape's will, the mention of his mother, this whole conversation began to make some sense. Could Malfoy have inherited something to do with his mother?

"Yes?" He tried to appear nonchalant, but he was quite sure his curiosity and hope shone through. A smirk crossed Malfoy's face at Harry's obvious emotions.

"We should move away from any… prying eyes."

Harry looked around and saw that they were indeed attracting several stares. Nodding, he acquiesced to the other boy's suggestion and they made their way to a nearly empty hall off the Atrium. Harry couldn't help but notice how wary the two Aurors appeared. It seemed that they, understandably, didn't like the situation. Harry was keenly aware of how this could be some sort of trap and was already thinking of ways to get out of any trouble, should it arise.

Reaching into his robes, Malfoy pulled out a plain wooden box and his wand. Harry could see that the Aurors were fingering their own beneath their robes. His lips quirked; at least they seemed to know what they were doing. Obviously ignoring the two behind him, the blond-haired man tapped his wand to the chest and it enlarged until it was big enough to hold a large book. Before taking the box when it was causally held out, Harry took precautions to make sure that it truly was safe. Seeing it was he took the box and tucked it under his arm.

"Thank you."

"I have no interest in it. Giving it to you was better than throwing it in the bin, if only marginally."

Nodding, Harry replied, "I suppose I'll see you around, then?"

"Most likely, yes." With that they departed company.

* * *

Back in the flat that Harry was currently sharing with Ron, he was sitting down on his couch. In front of him the box rested on his coffee table. Hesitantly he opened the box and his eyes widened at the sight that met him. There were several stacks of letters all addressed in the same hand that had covered the letter from Grimmauld Place. Speaking of which, there were the missing halves of the letter and photo found in his Godfather's home. His hand ghosted over the letters. It was then that another photo caught his eye. He stared at it; his mother's laughing face mesmerizing him. In all of the photos he had of her it was rare to see one where she was caught unaware. He picked it up and leaned back into the sofa, his eyes never leaving the sight of his mother.

He reached out and touched his mother's cheek lightly. He half hoped that the young girl would look away from her companion and flash him a loving smile as if she knew, even then, who was looking at her. She didn't though, and the cycle captured in that moment was never broken. Then she was pulling her hair back, and moments later she was looking towards him, her eyes widening. At that moment the cycle restarted and he knew that it must have been then that the girl caught sight of the camera.

Again, he watched the events play out. He watched their silent banter and felt a flicker of surprise and jealousy at this physical proof of their friendship. The dark-haired boy, who was so different from his cruel counterpart, gave a mock glare when his friend's fiery locks flew into his face. Struggling to gather it all into her hands, his mother gave a cheeky grin in response. Harry was once again surprised as the much younger Severus Snape pulled a tightly rolled scroll from his bag and removed the Slytherin green ribbon from around the parchment. He handed her the emerald tie and she took it and used the ribbon to pull her hair back.

As Lily moved her hair out of the way, Harry could easily read the 'thanks' on her lips. Snape just grinned and stuffed the paper back into his bag. At some point during the inspection he had grown tense and so he worked to relax the muscles and lowered his hands, with the photo in them, into his lap. It really was hard to believe, despite the memories he had received, that Snape and his mum had ever been friends. But all this – the box, the letters, the photo, _everything _– was indisputable. He tried to match the ornery man he had known with the child he had just observed, but he couldn't wrap his mind around it.

With a sigh, he leaned forwards to put the picture back into the box and closed the lid. He was grateful that Malfoy had given him this, but it was just one more thing he had to sort through. Over time he might be able to think through everything that had happened and come to terms with it. Eventually, all the deaths will not weigh him down so heavily. He will be able to figure out his feelings for the Malfoy's and Snape at some point. For now, however, he would take everything one step at a time for once.

Who knows? Perhaps that box will help him to get to know things about his mother as a young girl that only Snape had been privy to. He shook his head; someday not today. Today he was going to make a sandwich, take a nap, and then head over to the burrow. Today, he was going to relax and take time to enjoy his life. Harry stood and went to the kitchen, a smile on his face as he thought about the red-haired woman he would be seeing later that day. Yes, he is sure that things will turn out in the end.

**A/N:**** Thank you so much for taking time out of your day to read this. If you don't mind, would you take a few more moments to review? Thanks again. :D**


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